Feeling Lucky

When I get home from teaching my Thursday class at State, Danny is still sitting at the computer coding a program for work. I sneak up behind his leather reclining chair in his office. I reach over and lay my hands over his chest and my chin on his shoulder. He removes his thin rimless glasses, rubs his eyes, light, light green, and then, latches my wrist to pull me down for a kiss.

He swivels his chair around and draws me into his embrace. He rests his head against my belly, while I run my fingers through his wooly brown hair. He has broad shoulders, but he's not heavyset. Muscular from working out regularly but not brawny, taller than me but not very tall. And handsome in an adorable geeky way. Today, he's wearing his Google-branded "I'm feeling lucky" tee and blue faded denims.

"Or that new resistance swimming machine at the pool. We can pump and fuck in place."

I laugh.

He rubs his hands up my legs until he reaches my ass. Then, he starts cupping my ass and digging his fingers into my jeans so he can feel what kind of panties I'm wearing.

"Fuck, you're wearing a thong."

I know how much he likes it when I dress skimpy underneath my clothes. He also likes my short tomboy haircut, my petite figure, and what he calls my pouty lips.

"You didn't come to bed last night," I tell him. "I don't like it when you work late. I missed you too."

He runs his hands up my back, under my hoodie, and then, under my camisole. He sucks in his breath when he doesn't feel a bra strap. He moves his hands around my waist and up my ribcage, slides his palms under and curls his fingers over my tits. He plays with my tits, thumbs my nipples erect, while I run my fingers through his hair restlessly.

He unzips my hoodie and tosses it on the couch. He lifts me slightly as he swivels the chair back around to face the desk. He unzips my jeans, tugs my jeans down, mutters something about how they're too tight, sexy but inconvenient, and then, he stops to look at the dark pubic hair curling at the edges of the front flap of my pink lacy thong.

He moves the keyboard aside and presses my ass against the edge of the desk. He raises my feet onto the armrests of his chair. I lean back a little, plant my hands on the desk. All I'm wearing is my camisole and panties. I shiver a little from the November draft and the excitement curling in my toes, twitching in my pussy, and tingling my nipples.

He spreads my thighs a little more and slides his chair closer. He breathes on my crotch, hooks his finger on the string of my panties. I raise my hips. But he doesn't take off my panties. He glides his finger along the string, and edges the front flap of my panties to the side. He brings his other hand to my crotch so he can peel open my clitoral lips and expose the thin tissue between and the bead at the top.

When his wet warm tongue finally descends on my clit, I whimper. I feel like crying. It feels so good. Smooth and caressing, and his lips so soft and feathery when he breathes on me.

"Danny, please, take off my panties."

He does so, and leans up to kiss me on the mouth, so I can taste my sex on his lips and tongue. It's so sexy kissing him after he's tasted me.

"Mahal na mahal kita," he whispers, because he knows much it makes me wet when he tells me he loves me in Tagalog.

When he goes back down on me, he doesn't waste time. We've been together long enough to know what and how we like it. He licks and sucks my clit while he strokes me with his fingers.

"Oh, fuck, Danny."

When I start coming, he grabs my ass and tilts up my hips so he can dig in deeper with his tongue. Oh, god, there's no tomorrow here, there's only this edge of blackness like a blank monitor and patterns under my eyelids like indecipherable algorithms.

He brings me down to his lap. He's already removed his pants and his briefs.

"Fuck me hard," he says. He knows I'm not done.

I clutch the back of the chair and straddle him with my knees bent. I take him inside me, savoring the feeling of that first penetration, the hot strong pulse of his head inching and inching in, his thick hard organ rubbing my slick vaginal walls, penetrating so deep I can feel our pubic hairs sticking, his nuts rounding my ass, and his pelvic bone pressing against my clit. He grabs my ass and tilts his pelvis a little so I can rub my clit against him while I ride his dick. I do all the work this time, grinding against him and fucking him hard.

He's gripping my ass as he thrusts into me at an angle that I find stimulating. His dick is so hard and thick inside me I feel like I can come again. I'm whimpering and kissing him and moving with him again.

He reaches around my back, holding me tight, pulling my hips down. I grab his shoulders, arch my back, push down on him as he thrusts up. We're equal parts of an equation, our bodies in slick motion like the up and down slide of the mouse on a browser.

"Come on, baby," he says.

His dick is throbbing so hard I know he wants to come. He reaches down between us and rubs my clit. My knees and thighs tremble, and he takes this as an indicator that I'm ready to come again. He pinches me, rolls my clit between his fingers, pinching and pinching, until I shake and whimper, gush over him with my orgasm and collapse on his chest. I can't remember thinking or seeing anything in my mind this time, but just feeling and feeling him fucking me, harder and faster, biting my neck. Now, he's groaning, his dick swelling and jerking, his come shooting long and deep and hot. He rolls his hips to keep coming and releasing his orgasm. He breathes deeply and holds me tight to his chest.

Afterward, he cradles me on his lap and kisses me on the forehead. I listen to the comforting sound of his heartbeat, smell the smell of him on his skin and cotton tee shirt that can't be described, that I only know as Danny.

"That was nice," he says. "I think I should work late more often."

"Maybe you were just lucky."

"You're the lucky one. You came three times."

I lift my head so I can see his smile.

"You're right," I stroke his face. "I am the lucky one. I have you."

He kisses me softly. "We're lucky together."

I feel sleepy, but also inspired. "We should do it in the restroom at Google."

"Why there?"

"The seats are warm."

"They're from Japan." He rests his chin on my head. He's sleepy too.

"Then, let's do it in Japan."

"The plane to Japan," he mumbles.

"That would be sexy, rocking with the turbulence. We would just have to stand there. You could hold me against the restroom wall, and let the turbulence do all the rocking."

He groans. "Just thinking about it wears me out. Maybe I shouldn't work late so often."